


The Girl Who Had Just Confessed

by AthenaAstor12



Category: The Half of It (2020)
Genre: Alice wu, Aster Flores - Freeform, Church scene, Ellie Chu - Freeform, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Lesbian, Other, The Half Of It - Freeform, Yearning, asterflores+elliechu, netflix, paul munsky - Freeform, repressedyearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-05
Updated: 2020-05-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:35:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24017587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AthenaAstor12/pseuds/AthenaAstor12
Summary: So, I read that Alice Wu wrote a deleted scene for the movie wherein Ellie hears Aster talking while in a confessional and decided to write about that. This short take takes place the Sunday of the big church scene early in the morning for reference.
Relationships: Ellie Chu & Aster Flores, Ellie Chu & Paul Munsky
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	The Girl Who Had Just Confessed

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I'm aware this may not completely fit in with the plot, but overall it could had been jammed in there with the level of dramatic irony going on and still be accurate.

The pen shook in my hand as I brushed smooth yet dark and angsty lines that become letters that became words onto the paper within my hands.Yes, I just called myself angsty and yes I’m not entirely sure how i ended up there, writing a letter to Aster Flores within a confessional dedicated to a religion not my own that was against the endeavor in the first place.   
The plan was to keep my head low, to go to college at e-dub then I had no idea. The plan was not to fall for Aster Flores, not to scare Paul away by falling in love with Aster Flores.   
A tearing sound and then I had a crumpled piece of paper in my hands. No, it wasn’t good enough. She Would know it was me this time, and not Paul, so it had to be perfect. This was the essay I got to put my name on, not the one I signed someone else’s name to for 20 bucks.   
Another attempt, three sentences in and I found my hands hardened by years of piano poised upon the indentation in the notebook, ready to discard my sixth attempt, the devil's number I suppose according to those who worshiped in the building I was within. Something stopped me however.  
The click of platform heels striking the ground in small swaying steps. Who could possibly be at church this early? It was two and a half hours before service. I was only here to practice for piano more and also if i'm being honest, although I have no obligation to be, to be able to write somewhere where my dad wouldn't’ see. I loved him, but he can read my emotions so well and him knowing…..  
The heels stopped right near the confessional. I sucked in my breath hoping to not be heard. I didn’t feel like being scolded for being in the church too early.   
Then the door creaked open and I had to bite the sleeve of my sweater too keep myself quite. The heels stepped into the other booth, thanking the stars whoever was here to confess, even without a priest preferred the left side over the right.   
A scratchy sound entailed the little confessional window being played open, and some more shuffliing went on in the other booth. It seemed as though I was stuck there until whoever it was finished with their sob story.   
I relaxed a bit and stopped drooling on my sweater because whoever it was would probably get so wrapped up in their confession I might be able to sneak out without them noticing in a minute. I was used to going unnoticed, what was one more time?  
Then a lilting bold voice tempered its way through the wood and I knew there would be no sneaking away, and I would have to play the service with wet sweater sleeves.   
“Hemgh, Erm God? I know there is no priest, but if you do exist I’m sure you can hear me loud and clear. I want to believe you exist, so you’re one more thing in my life that isn’t a lie. “  
Some more shuffling. Aster seemed to be shrugging off a jacket. I nearly dropped my pen as the memory of her in the hot springs surfaced. Stupid me being so focused on the trees!   
“I guess…...I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing with my life? It’s a good life, you’ve given me. Trig is devoted, although conceited. Girls want me…..guys want me…...but I find myself not wanting any of them. Does that make me ungrateful, God?”  
I pushed my glasses up on my nose as an attempt to channel some of my energy. I wanted to scream at her that “You’re not ungrateful! None of that is the bold stroke of a painting! It's all the bland sort of painting you would hang in a random restaurant! It's the kind that gets it on billboards for you to pass at 50mph and never give a second thought! Aster Flores you deserve so much more and every person with you in their life should be thanking you!” But of course I didn’t. The nose pieces of my glasses just dug painfully into the bridge of my nose as I kept pushing them further and further into my skull.   
“God, I know Trig is a blessing…I know he is a savior for my family and I should take one for the team like Mary. I’m different like Mary, I can shoulder this. But I don’t love Trig.”  
I nearly chuckled. Just a few days ago she had blurted about marrying trig to me, blurted while wearing nearly zero clothes and complimenting me on my lack of boy talk.   
“I don’t love Paul either. I know you have sent him to me to be my second choice. Be my second savior. Him appearing is the only reason I still believe you truly exist because you cared enough for me to give me a sign not to go with Trig, but I feel as though this sign was more…...like the first bit of a set of directions. It wasn’t the end destination. It was the turn left out of the neighborhood, but not the ‘Your destination is on the right.’”  
Hm. I guess she was from California. I’d never had much use for a GPS before so the allusion was a bit above me but still.   
“But….,” there was a shaky exhale as she processed whatever she was trying to say. I could feel the chills going up my spine as she all but whispered the next line, “Why do I feel as though Ellie is the final destination?”  
She was quiet for a bit. I was quiet for a bit. We were both quiet for a bit, me probably being more shocked than her.   
“Maybe I’m just jealous of her relationship with Paul, and that's why I always think of her right before I fall asleep. Maybe I just want to be her friend, and that's why none of my other friends can carry a conversation like her it seems but….goddammit, forgive my language, sometimes I just want to be held by her. Be held by something real. Everything in this town feels like smoke, the aftermath of a great fireworks show, not the fireworks themselves, but, God, Ellie feels like the fireworks show, all bright and fiery yet never noticed for more than a second. People pay her to write her essays, pay for the 30 seconds of spark then forget. I used to think Paul was real…..now It seems as though Ellie has been behind the pen along. “  
I gulped as I stared at my badly written confession letter, none of it saying anything near as bold as what I was hearing now, but still letting her know I wrote all the letters, which somehow made me even more vulnerable because they were more than letters and she knew that.   
“I know it's a sin. But why did you put her in my path like that if only to tempt me? Tempt with a Gravity for my loneliness, another planet to revolve around mine. Like she said, Gravity is matters response to loneliness. I know love is patient and kind and all that mess. I’ve heard Trig practicing, but with Ellie my love is full of passion and it's bold enough to add that one last stroke. I'd hang my conversations with Ellie in a museum. I’d only hang my conversation with anyone else in an old rickety restaurant. “  
At this point I’d nearly chewed a hole in my sweater. All this repressed longing, yeesh.   
I could feel her ocean of thoughts come to a slow rhythm. Then more waves seem to break, but quietly like low tide. As if she were afraid for her waves to really reach the beach, and all its sand castles it may ruin.   
In a hushed whisper, in the smallest yet bravest voice I’d ever heard, aside from my mother's tone for lullabies, she began to gush, “I just want to drown in an ocean of her thoughts. Whatever is going on under that dark ponytail of hers I want to clasp it in a locket and wear it around my neck. The same neck that she could kiss the back of before falling asleep beside me. Ellie Chu, my safety person. “  
I may have revealed myself if not for her next words.   
“But I know you think it's wrong…..to Love a girl like that. I know you put Trig in my path for my well being…..so I will accept when the time comes. Perhaps it will be today, Easter Sunday but may your will be done. I’ll probably never know what could have happened with Paul. I will always long for Ellie, but now you know my devotion, and this one confession will give me peace of mind.”  
I could feel my cheeks burning by this point. What did this even mean? She was “into me” as Paul might say it, but thought it was wrong? How could showing her all the love she desperately deserves be wrong in the eyes of anyone, I thought furiously, my belief in God waning more than was previously humanly possible.   
But before I could rashly leave the confessional, only to wrap her up and kiss her with every word on my tongue I couldn't seem to put on paper, for once, I heard her platforms briskly walking out of the church.   
I sat stunned for what felt like an hour. The pen and notebook fell open on the floor of the confessional. What was the point of writing anymore? I told you this wasn’t a love story and this moment is exactly why.   
A glance at my watch let me know it was time to head upstairs, before the rest of the congregation got here. Better not to let them see the heathen, because in truth that's what I was, because anyone who can’t create music as powerful as Aster’s singing, probably is a heathen.   
So I led myself up the stairs, to play music note for note chord or chord, in a desperate attempt to woo the girl who had just confessed.


End file.
